


Dogtag

by arminaa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Advent Calendar, Alternate Universe, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arminaa/pseuds/arminaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is deployed in Afghanistan and Sherlock is spending Christmas alone...but Sherlock receives a special present on Christmas morning. AU in which John and Sherlock are in their 20s, and met when John was still in the army.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dogtag

**Author's Note:**

> For the [221B Advent Calendar](http://221b-advent.livejournal.com/).

“Sherlock, enough of this nonsense. Come to Mummy’s. It will do you no good to spend Christmas alone,” Mycroft said, tiredness in his voice.

Without a word to his brother Sherlock jumped up from where he was lying on the couch and moved swiftly to his bedroom. 

He couldn’t stand the sight of Mycroft anymore. He didn’t want to be around anyone, except for John. Of course, the one person he wanted to spend Christmas with was the one person he couldn’t see.

Sherlock slammed the door shut behind him and threw himself on his bed. After lying there for a minute he heard Mycroft in the other room move from his chair and leave the flat, softly shutting the door.

Good. 

He’d rather lie in bed and wish the holiday away than spend time with his… _family_. Especially Mycroft. John would’ve understood, would have wanted at 221B for Christmas as well. Neither of them could be bothered with the stuffiness of the Holmes clan, or the formality of their holiday dinners. Together they had braved Christmas dinner last year with Sherlock’s family and had sworn never to do so again. 

Last year had been their first Christmas together. They had begun their relationship in a whirlwind the November prior and had spent the holidays in a daze of happiness – excluding the disatrous family dinner. It had been perfect; without doubt the best Christmas Sherlock had had in his life.

This year Sherlock was in his flat on Christmas Eve, completely alone. John had been deployed back to Afghanistan in September and wasn’t due back until March. The months John had been away were hellish for Sherlock. He missed his friend and lover with an intensity he’d never before experienced for any other person. They were able to email and occasionally talk in person over the phone, but it wasn’t enough. Would never be enough. Sherlock would give anything to see John. He felt as though he was losing his mind with loneliness.

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut and curled up in the middle of his mattress. He thought of John, of what he might be doing right at this moment. Was he having the same thoughts? Did he feel as alone, as heartbroken as Sherlock did? 

Doubtful. It was eleven thirty on Christmas Eve, and he hadn’t heard from John in days. Not a call, not an email, nothing. Mycroft had assured Sherlock that John was perfectly safe. Sherlock would never admit it, barely even to himself, but he was terrified. Scared to death that the months they’d spend apart would put enough emotional distance between them that John would decide that a relationship with Sherlock just wasn’t worth it in the end. He’d last spoken with John a week ago, and John had seemed normal, perhaps a bit sad. Sherlock had assumed the sadness was due to John being denied leave for the holidays. Maybe he’d assumed incorrectly. Perhaps there was another reason for John’s distraction.

After awhile Sherlock drifted off to a fitful sleep, lost in his doubts.

*****

Hours later, Sherlock woke up in darkness. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand he realized that it was early in the morning on Christmas day. Remembering that he was to spend the day alone, he flipped onto his other side in misery, fully expecting to spend the day lying in bed, bored, sad, and alone.

But when he turned, he felt something cold and smooth under his arm. Sitting up in shock, he quickly turned on a lamp and looked down at the unexpected object in his bed.

It was a set of dog tags.

Lifting the chain up directly in front of his face, he saw a tiny red bow attached to the bottom of the chain. He looked closer at the tag to read the inscription:

_Merry Christmas, Sherlock._

His heart leaping into his throat, Sherlock’s mind was sifting through possibilities at lightning speed. He could only think of one person who would send him a gift like this. 

John. 

John still loved him, still cared, had thought of him while away. 

But how had it ended up in his bed? Mycroft? Doubtful. John would never had asked Sherlock’s brother for a favor like this. Mrs. Hudson? No, she wouldn’t have come into Sherlock’s room uninvited while he was asleep…that had ended badly in the past.

Clutching the unusual gift in one hand Sherlock pulled the sheet off his bed and wrapped it around himself with the other. He padded over to his door and out into the main room to investigate.

When he entered the room through the kitchen, he froze. The front room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside. Through the darkness he could see the shape of a man sitting in a chair – in John’s chair. 

“Merry Christmas, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock’s breath left him all at once.   
“John.” 

He couldn’t get to the chair fast enough. Before John had finished standing up Sherlock was there, rushing into him and wrapping his arms around him as tightly as he could. 

“ _John._ ” he again murmured into his lover’s hair.

John moved his hands from where they were clutching Sherlock’s back to his face, lifting his chin and smoothing his palms over his cheeks. He moved his face closer to Sherlock’s and held him there, looking into his eyes and soaking in the sight of him. Without a word, John moved his lips to Sherlock’s and gave him a long, bruising kiss filled with relief and happiness.

“ _Sherlock_ ,” John breathed into Sherlock’s mouth, “I’ve missed you so much. So much. God, I love you.” He slid his lips alongside Sherlock’s once more. 

After several minutes Sherlock reluctantly pulled away from John. “I thought you weren’t coming home until March,” Sherlock said quietly, not looking away from John for even a second. 

John smiled softly. “Surprise,” he whispered. “My leave was granted last week. I’m here for ten whole days.” He ran his hand through Sherlock’s curls. “Merry Christmas.” 

Sherlock pulled John back into his arms and clung to him. After a moment, he started dragging John backwards.

“Sherlock, what?” he asked. Sherlock peppered John’s face with kisses as he moved them both towards the bedroom. 

“I’ve been without you for three months, John. Three months. I won’t do without you for a second more.”


End file.
